


In the Kingdom Among the Pines

by Harpalyke



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Cock Warming, Creampie, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Forced Orgasm, Loss of Virginity, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion, Verbal Abuse, Victim Blaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27909853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harpalyke/pseuds/Harpalyke
Summary: Princess Parthenia notices right away that the kingdom she is marrying into is very different from her own. And soon she finds out that the King of Kymer's plan for her deviates very far from the traditions she is accustomed to.
Relationships: King/Princess Before Her Wedding Night
Comments: 3
Kudos: 86
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2020





	In the Kingdom Among the Pines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meatball42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meatball42/gifts).



The first alarm bell Princess Parthenia should have listened to was the servant taking her not to a bedchamber but a marble-coated washroom, where a bathtub stood, filled to its wide brim with soapy, steaming water. Normally, the bath would take place just before the wedding ceremony, so the bride would be at her best for her new husband. 

_ The Kymerians do it differently, _ she told herself as her dress was unlaced and gently nudged off her shoulders.  _ That’s all. They have different traditions, and you would do best to adapt to them as quickly as possible.  _ This union, her parents had told her many times over the course of her 18 years, would benefit and strengthen the kingdom of Bubonia. The kingdom, they said, was the most important of all. Even more so than the gods. 

Also, after the soothing bath, Parthenia was brought to the bedchamber she’d been expecting, wrapped in a silk nightdress with her long hair dried and brushed, her face bare. “Please call for me if you need anything else, princess,” said the servant, waving her through a door into what was at first complete darkness. 

Parthenia took a step forward, a tentative hand reached out. Then her eyes adjusted to the moonlight streaming through the tall window onto a bed with sheets also made of silk in the same shade of pale pink as her nightdress. She peered out the window, twirling the ends of her hair and trying to swallow down the clump of nerves gathered in her throat. Kymer was all forest, a stark contrast from the sprawling plains of Bubonia. 

Sleep tugged at her eyes, drawing her closer to the bed. The carriage ride had been long, the feast had been awkward—Prince Clovis, though handsome, only gave monosyllabic acknowledgements while the king and queen did most of the talking. Or rather, bragging about the prosperity of the Kymerian kingdom. And this castle was alien, bigger and colder than Parthenia’s own in Bubonia. 

_ Go to sleep, _ she told herself. _ You’ll feel better in the morning. For all the boasting these Kymerians do, they’ll surely present an elaborate ceremony.  _ When the princess climbed into bed, she was imagining gleaming adornments, admiring faces, and an elegant gown in the richest shade of violet. 

However, after only a few minutes, her mind began to wander to a different place, guided by her hand slipping between her legs. The servant had shaved her bare, also odd since it likely wouldn’t last until the end of the ceremony. But again Parthenia didn’t want to ask questions and risk being viewed as challenging traditions. 

She couldn’t seem to pull her hand away. Her lower lips, both inner and outer, were velvet-soft and impossibly smooth. Her fingers slid over the plump skin once, twice… On the third pass, they grew slick, migrating toward the small slit and working their way between the folds. 

_ No, no, no! What are you doing?  _ Parthenia wrenched her hand out of her thighs’ grasp and tucked it under her pillow. On the way there, she caught from them the barest hint of her scent, which went straight to her head. Meanwhile, more wetness slicked up her inner thighs and pooled into the bedsheet beneath her rear. 

Shame crept up her throat as she crossed her legs tightly and rolled over to her side.  _ What is wrong with you? That is for the prince, not you! Behave properly at once!  _ She managed to obey her harsh inner voice for the rest of her short time awake, though she remained acutely aware of the wetness below her waist… 

Sometime later, Parthenia’s eyes snapped open, and she noticed immediately the lack of sunlight. The moon was still high above the pines—it was still the middle of the night. Yet she’d awakened as suddenly as if someone had shaken her. 

Blinking away all remnants of sleep, she sat up and spotted a tall figure standing just beyond the foot of the bed. Her first thought was the servant, but the figure was too tall, so the next was Prince Clovis, breaking the rules and catching an early glimpse of his bride at her most vulnerable. 

“What—?” 

_ “Shh.” _ It was brusque, a sound she never thought soft-spoken Prince Clovis could make. Then the figure stepped closer, and Parthenia recognized it as the king’s. 

She jerked backward, letting out a small  _ “oh” _ of surprise. Instinctively, her arms gathered up the quilt and pressed it to her chest, forming a shield against what, she didn’t know, but she knew that, even in Kymer, this situation wasn’t normal. 

The moonlight stretched out his shadow, making him appear even taller. He moved forward, and in one swift motion, tore the quilt off the stunned princess and dropped it into a heap on the floor. 

“Your Highness, what’s this—?” 

“I said shut up, you dumb little bitch.” 

Still stunned, Parthenia felt her eyes welling up. She’d thought she’d made a good impression on the Kymerian royal family but evidently not. Was he going to have his guards haul her out—or worse, kill her? But then why had she gone through the bathing ritual—? 

“Take this off.” The king waved a careless hand at her lower half, but since he’d already snatched the quilt from her, she didn’t know to what he was referring. 

“I don’t understand, Your Highness,” Parthenia stammered. 

In the dim light, she saw his blue eyes glance up at the ceiling before narrowing. “They’ve told me the Bubonians were simple people, but they didn’t tell me their fair princess was empty-headed. Take. It.  _ Off.” _

She still didn’t move, so he grasped the hem of her nightdress and yanked it off with one hand, while the other shoved her back on the bed. Whimpering, Parthenia curled up, her hair tickling her bare legs, and caught a glimpse of the wide archway behind him, the door left open. It was worse than she’d thought: She was going to be dragged out  _ naked.  _

“Please don’t,” she whispered, holding her knees as if they were logs floating down a rushing river. 

The king advanced closer, causing Parthenia to flinch. His next words were delivered in a much kinder tone: “Now listen up, princess. Do as I say, and you’ll be tucked back in bed in no time at all. Do you understand?” 

In the same second she nodded, his hands were back on her, pushing her onto the bed much gentler than the previous time. They moved to her small breasts, kneading them briefly before gliding down her narrow torso. Belatedly, she realized the king was not planning on killing her, which would have been a relief if he wasn’t spreading her legs and surveying the bare pink flesh between them. 

“Please don’t do this, Your Highness!” Parthenia begged. “Please don't take what belongs to your son—!” Her plea raised into a yelp as his hand connected sharply with her cheek, throwing the other against the bed. 

“I don’t want to hear you beg, unless it’s for me to stuff this pretty little cunt of yours. I’ll bet it tastes as nice as it looks.”

As if to test this theory, he crouched down and dragged his tongue slowly over her folds, up and down like she’d done with her own fingers, until her juices were mixing in with his spit. She couldn’t help but relax, nearly forgetting this bizarrely awful situation. When he parted her lower lips and dipped his tongue inside of her, her eyes fluttered closed and she let out a small but audible sigh.

“What a filthy whore,” the king sneered, rising and wiping away her juices from his face. “Been dying for someone to play with your cunt, have you?” 

She let out a soft yelp in response, for something came down hard against her soaked mound. Not his hand but his cock, she realized, poking out of his robes and clutched in his hand. 

Abandoning her resolve, Parthenia burst into tears, rolling to her side with her knees up, a protective hand over her cunt. The fluids were already starting to dry, sticking to her palm and building up shame within her chest and stomach. He leaned over her; she braced herself for impact that did not come. 

Instead, he chuckled. “I am not completely without mercy, princess. I am simply enjoying myself—and you. Not much more pleasurable than a pretty little thing with a sweet cunt. And you’d like to preserve it, I understand. Perhaps you’re not such a filthy slut after all. However, I will be making  _ some _ use of you tonight.” 

Parthenia could only blink. Her mind was trailing far behind the events, unable to decipher his words.

“Get on your knees, princess.” 

At least her body was comprehending what her mind could not. Slowly, she slid off the bed and knelt in front of him, the chill of the stone floor shooting straight through her bony knees. His huge cock was only a breath away, but she refused to look at it, feeling the pulsing heat on her flushed, tear-streaked cheeks.

“It should be obvious what comes next, princess,” said the king with disdain as he held her head and faced her forward. “Open your mouth.” 

He’d said he would not take her, so long as Parthenia was  _ useful. _ The thought of taking his cock into her mouth turned her stomach. Yet here she knelt, without much of a choice. She pried apart her cracked lips and wrapped them around his tip. 

“Good girl.” It slid in deeper while he guided her head back and forth. Though she still felt disgusting, it wasn’t awful. He gently thrust into her throat, mumbling encouragement like a master to his student. “That’s it, princess, all the way in, tighten those pretty lips a bit more, yes, like that…” 

Just when the tiniest bit of tension began to eke out of her limbs, the king gripped the sides of her face and rammed his cock all the way down her throat, causing her to gag and fresh tears to fall. 

“That’s it, slut,  _ take _ it…” 

Parthenia tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but she was too preoccupied with trying to breathe. Drool poured down her chin and onto her bare chest as she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stifle her gagging. The door was still open—anyone, even a servant, discovering her in this position would ruin her. 

Meanwhile, the king thrust into her mouth with abandon, his heavy breaths filling the room. Parthenia’s own lungs were bereft of air, and she was crying too hard to take in any through her nose. She clawed at his arms, his legs, his boots, desperate, but he was made of stone, holding her steady as he choked her with his cock. It was not very long before all the air was out of her and blackness rolled in, slow at first and then rapidly speeding up… 

When Parthenia opened her eyes again, she found herself on her back, still naked. For one hopeful second, she assumed the king had left her sprawled like the  _ little whore _ he thought she was. But something was wrong—between her legs, she felt  _ full. _ Stretched. 

Through silver flecks hovering at the borders of her vision, she saw with horror that the king was towering over her, attached by his cock inside of her. Not thrusting, yet still invading. 

“Please no,” Parthenia whimpered, even though it was too late. He had already snatched her right from under his son.  _ Why?  _

“Hush,” he admonished. “Just let it happen, sweet girl.” He began to thrust, digging his fingers into her thighs as he held them open. “Doesn’t that feel good?” 

“N-no,” she lied, earning her another slap to the temple. 

“Wrong answer.” The pace was increasing, the pleasure within radiating out and engulfing any residual pain. Her cunt was wet again, slicking up his cock, allowing it further in. 

“It-it feels good, Your Highness.” Her voice came out high and breathy, almost a moan. The king’s smirk broadened—he knew she was fighting within herself not to enjoy it. 

“Of course it does,” he growled, slamming into her now. The wet  _ clap clap  _ echoing off the walls and undoubtedly down the corridor should’ve exacerbated the shame, but that, too, was dissolved in building pleasure. The first moan escaped her lips and he pounced, leaning low and capturing her mouth with his. 

She sank into the bed, her legs wrapping around his torso without her permission. _Fight him off, fight him off,_ her head was saying, but she continued to take it, reveling in the pleasure of his large frame overtaking her, his hot breath against her lips and mixing with her own inside her mouth, his cock rubbing her sensitive inner walls. Squeezing her eyes shut, she succumbed completely, meeting his thrusts until hot fluid leaked from her cunt onto the sheets below. A blissful blankness unlike anything she'd ever experienced filled her mind as she went limp, her legs unwrapping and lying splayed out beneath him. 

“I’m going to claim you properly and fill you all the way up with my seed,” he hissed in her ear, still pumping into her. 

It took a second for his words to sink in. Parthenia came to most of her senses and tried to push him off, but he clutched her tightly to his chest, let out a grunt, and unleashed a flood of heat deep into her. 

“No!” she wailed, feeling bile surge up her sore throat. “No, no—!” 

Another slap silenced her before the king climbed off of her limp body and adjusted his robes. Her lower half, covered in a mixture of their fluids, absorbed the cool air and started her trembling again. 

“Why?” she could only choke out. “Why?”

The king made a  _ tsk  _ sound and shook his head. “You truly believe you weren’t asking for it? I saw the way you were peeking at me through those long eyelashes during the feast. I’ve just given you what you were  _ begging _ for. You should thank me.” 

When she didn’t, he slapped her again, this time on the mouth. “I said  _ thank me, _ you insolent little cunt.” 

“Thank you, Your Highness,” she mumbled through lips as puffy and swollen as the ones between her bruised thighs. 

The king simply pursed his lips with contempt and strode out, slamming the door closed behind him. Parthenia could only lie there, shaking and crying. Not even a minute ago, she'd given into the king, hot with arousal. Now she shook with fear colder than the air, daunted by the prospect of undressing for the prince. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice the maroon marks forming on her pale skin. Perhaps all of his father’s seed would dribble out of her by then, without fertilization. Perhaps she could enjoy her and the prince’s consummation without stifling shame and guilt. 

That was quite a bit of hoping. And by this point, hope wore on her as heavily as dread. 


End file.
